…
February 21, 20X5
Truth: Nothing can tear me down. There’s always a way. I’m a survivor.
No goodbyes. No explanations. My parents confiscated my devices, changed my passwords, and shipped me to Savannah, where I was to film Unseen, a low-budget movie targeting the Maker market by using physical locations instead of green screens. According to the Myrna-bot who had taken over manning my Network feeds, I was “doing it for the art.” They had officially turned me into the virtual daughter they’d always wanted.
In some ways, it was a relief to put my Network feed on autopilot, but I was also cut off from Adam’s stream, and I was desperate for contact. I at least wanted to say goodbye. The moment Bernard—the robo-guard assigned to keep me under constant surveillance—deposited me in my hotel room, locking the door from outside and taking up residence in the threshold, I frantically searched for a communication device. The hotel was a few years past its prime and—probably thanks to my parents—there was no Network access, no screens, no computer, and no VR in my room. There was only a desktop robot, who asked me if I wanted room service before going on the fritz and sounding the wake-up alarm. The buzzer shrieking in my ears, I slammed the robot against the floor until he shut up.
Sitting on the bed in silence, I stared at the faded wallpaper. As alone as I was certain I was, I couldn’t ignore the eerie presence that lingered in the walls, the past impression of moments lived within the tiny box. The walls started closing in, suffocating me, and I inhaled the faint rose scent that failed to overpower the antiseptic air in the stale space. With no one to cling to, I threw myself on the lumpy bed, buried my face in a pillow, and screamed. No escape… They can’t disappear me… They can’t keep me from him… I’ll find a way. My throat closed, smothering a sob before it surfaced, and I knew it was best if my true feelings stayed deep.
I begged for sleep, hoping to wake with a plan to get around Bernard, but sleep never came.
In the morning, my eyes were red and puffy when Bernard escorted me to the makeup trailer.
“What happened to you?” The makeup artist gasped as I slumped into the chair bearing my name. Failing to introduce herself, she tilted my chin upward, examining my swollen eyes.
“I got in late last night and didn’t sleep well. I’m sorry,” I replied.
“It’s going to take a miracle to fix this,” she muttered before disappearing through a doorway.
“I’m sure you’re homesick,” the lady in the makeup chair next to me said. “Don’t worry, though. You’ll make friends soon. It’s hard when everyone’s a stranger, but I promise we’ll be family before you know it.” She extended her hand without looking at me, keeping her head steady as the other makeup artist airbrushed her face. “I’m Crystal Harrison.”
My ears perked up, the name sounding familiar. “I’m Ella Karman.” I accepted her hand.
“Nice to meet you, Ella.” She squeezed my fingers before letting go.
I eyed her cloud of blond hair and white skin, so stark against her red lips. “You play the voodoo priestess?” We would have a lot of scenes together. The movie was about a voodoo priestess who adopts a runaway teenage girl (me).
“I do.”
Recalling a distant conversation stolen from beneath the dinner table, I couldn’t stop staring. “You were a famous actress, but you disconnected,” I blurted.
She smiled, her eyes remaining on the makeup artist. “Once upon a time, yes.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I decided it was time to stage my comeback.” She giggled but quickly shut her mouth when the makeup artist cleared her throat.
“You can do that?” I asked. “I thought once you disconnected that was it.”
She considered me out of the corner of her twinkling eye. “Anything is possible.”
“How?” I exhaled. Tickled by a faint flutter of hope, I wanted to know everything about her.
The makeup artist stepped back, studying her work.
“Honey, are we all set?” Crystal asked. “Do you think I could get some water before I leave? This air-conditioning is murder on my throat.”
“I’ll get you some, but you’re free to go.” The makeup artist left the room.
Crystal paused in front of me before she left. Her face had been transformed into a glittering skull, but she hadn’t changed into her costume yet and wore a cheery floral sundress. The effect was like visiting a ghostly lemonade stand on a hot summer day. “Why don’t you come by my trailer when you’re done? We’ll talk.”
…
“Come in and have a seat,” Crystal said, ushering me inside.
Her trailer was identical to mine, except her mahogany makeup table overflowed with flowers tucked into tiny glass vases. Their scent was innocent but intoxicating. Kind of like Crystal herself.
“Hungry?” She offered me a plate piled with gooey chocolate chip cookies.
“Thank you.” Lowering myself into a chair, I took a bite, careful not to smudge my lips, though I was playing a fifteen-year-old ingenue and my makeup was practically nonexistent. The cookie was soft and still warm.
“Have some tea, too.” She poured a glass from a pitcher sunning itself on a windowsill.
“You’ve thought of everything,” I said, accepting the drink. “It’s so homey in here.”
“I can make any place feel like home.” She sat on the edge of her makeup table, her dress splaying out around her knees. “Because it’s wherever I am. What about you? Where are you from?”
“L.A. My parents are Tiana Santos and Noah Karman—they’re Influencers. This is my first movie, my first time on my own.”
“I remember them.”
I watched for signs she knew them more deeply than from their Network feeds.
“I didn’t know they had a daughter, though,” she said, and I decided they were strangers.
“They kept me out of the spotlight. Until now.” I sipped the sweet tea. “My IPO released over the summer, and to be honest, it’s been a little rocky. They’re hoping Unseen will help.”
She frowned. “So much pressure for someone so young.”
“It is.”
Her eyes were blacked out by her contacts, so I couldn’t gauge her thoughts, but my instincts told me she was a friend, and I couldn’t wait any longer. “I was wondering if you could help me. I need to get in touch with someone, but all my devices were confiscated, and Bernard out there won’t let me near the Networks.” I nodded over my shoulder to where the robot stood guard outside the door. “And even if I could locate a store to buy a device, my currency account is frozen. Do you have a wrist screen or AMPs I could borrow?”
“I’m sorry.” She shook her head. “I don’t. No data devices for me.”
My jaw dropped. “How do you keep in touch with people?”
“I write letters or call.”
“How do you call someone without a device?”
“There are pay phones.”
“What are those?”
Pressing her lips together, she suppressed a smile. “They’re public telephones. They used to be everywhere before the internet. Some still exist…usually in abandoned strip malls. In big cities, they get augmented to look like green spaces, but in towns that haven’t fully digitized, history is all around. You just have to open your eyes to it.”
“Do you know where I could find one?”
“Sure. There’s one outside the bank in the shopping center across the street. But do you have any change?”
“Like, physical coins?” I raised my eyebrows, recalling an antique piggy bank filled with quarters and dimes Mom used to keep in the back of her closet from when she was a little girl. I hadn’t seen it in years. I remembered her trying to throw it out at some point, saying it was worthless. But I’d rescued it from the trash. It had alway
s been hard for me to let go of items that might someday trigger memories. “No…”
“Who do you need to reach?”
“My boyfriend.” I stumbled over the words, unsure if they were technically true—aside from publicly holding hands, Adam and I hadn’t made anything official—but it was the easiest way to describe how much he meant to me. “My parents made me leave without saying goodbye.”
“This is an emergency, then.” Grinning, she leaped to her feet and, opening a drawer, produced a roll of quarters. “I’ve been saving these for a special occasion. Come on. We should hurry. Wardrobe will be here soon.”
“What about Bernard? He’s set to notify my parents every time I move.”
“This will take care of him.” She held up a black-and-white striped umbrella. “It’s my little indulgence, coded to scramble all GPS signals. I never leave home without it. With this over your head, you’re off the grid.”
Leading me outside, she opened the umbrella. We huddled beneath it, tiptoeing down the trailer steps and inching past Bernard. I held my breath, positive he was going to flash to life any second and alert my parents I was sneaking away, but he didn’t budge. Once we were safely past him, we hurried across the street, the steamy Savannah day threatening to melt our makeup. It didn’t take long to find the forgotten corner where a black phone hung in a silver box.
“It looks like something from a museum,” I said, examining names and number strings etched into the metal. “Do you think it still works?”
“It will. The Disconnects keep them running.” She handed me two coins. “Pick up the receiver and put these in that slot. Once you hear a tone, start dialing.”
Following her instructions, I listened as the box swallowed my coins with a crunch, but when the tone sounded in my ears, I couldn’t remember Adam’s private number that would connect me to his wrist screen. I’d never dialed it before—I only knew him by his icon, and even that would only have connected me to his private Network message center. “What if I don’t know the number?” I gasped.
“Dial 411. You can look it up.”
I pressed the buttons, and, to my surprise, a recording directed me to say the city and state I was trying to reach. I followed the prompts, but unfortunately his information was unlisted.
“This is impossible.” I slammed down the phone. “Without technology, a person could go missing. They could disappear.”
“Yes, they could,” Crystal said, putting her arm around me. “Being off-grid forces you to keep the people you love close, that’s for certain.”
“How am I going to get in touch with him?” I threw my hands up in frustration as we walked back to the trailers.
“Send a letter? I’ll give you a stamp.”
“To where? I don’t know his address.”
“What about his Network? You could use a library computer, create a new account, and private message him.”
I shook my head. “So many people want to get to Adam, he charges to read messages, and my currency account is frozen. But maybe we could go together and you could message him for me? I’ll find a way to pay you back.”
“Sorry, hon. I don’t have a currency account.” She linked her arm with mine.
“How do you get your stipend, then?” I asked, my jaw falling open.
“I don’t. Favors are my currency.” She laughed. “Maybe you have to wait for him to come to you. It isn’t a bad thing, you know.”
“I guess…” There’s got to be another way.
I stared at our shadows as we walked, our silhouettes melded together by the umbrella, and an idea formed.
Chapter Twenty-Three
March 1, 20X5
Truth: Waiting for what you want is worthless. If you want something to happen, you have to go after it yourself.
…
I tried it Crystal’s way, waiting around for a note to slide under my dressing-room door with a riddle that would lead to a meeting place—he must have known I was in Savannah from what the Myrna-bot was posting to my Networks—but nothing showed up. To keep myself from wondering if he was over me, I threw myself into my role, spending every waking moment studying the script, memorizing my lines. Acting took me by surprise. I loved being on set. Despite being nervous at first, as soon as the cameras rolled, I became my character and my nerves evaporated. It was freeing not being me anymore, and I couldn’t wait for all the characters I’d get to play in the future. The DNA scans were right. I was a natural. And I was hooked.
Still, I was dying to know what was happening at home. It took some convincing—Crystal was way more protective of me than my own mother ever was—but she eventually agreed to let me borrow her umbrella.
“Are you sure I can’t go with you?” Crystal asked, dipping her brush into a little gold jar and dabbing the cold cream under my right eye.
“Positive. I have a paper map that shows where the library is and the quarters you gave me. Once I get there, I’m sure someone will help me access the Network, and maybe the quarters will be enough to get them to send Adam a message for me. I’ll be fine,” I said. “Besides, tonight is your last scene. You can’t miss it.”
“I know.” She sighed, dotting glue over my eye and adhering gold beads. “I just hate having you out there alone. If you waited until tomorrow, I could go with you.”
“But I have a big scene tomorrow. I go out alone in L.A. all the time, and it’s much scarier than Savannah—I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I guess.” Standing back, she scanned my face, admiring her handiwork. “But in L.A., you can be tracked. No Savannah cameras will recognize this girl. You could disappear.” She turned my chair to face the mirror. “Disconnect looks good on you, don’t you think?”
My lips parted in awe as I stared at my reflection. A gold sequin fan arched over my right eye, and three thick, gold teardrops dripped over my cheek beneath it. Above the corner of my mouth, a rhinestone beauty mark sparkled, and my lips were drawn in with red glitter on one side, black on the other. “Wow.” I exhaled, blood thundering in my veins. I felt like I was back hiding under my parents’ dining room table, like an imposter on the verge of getting caught. And I liked it. “It’s incredible.”
Standing, I kissed her cheek.
“Be safe out there.” She hugged me. “Come find me as soon as you get back, so I know you’re okay. And don’t forget this.” She handed me the black-and-white striped umbrella.
A little charge shot through me. “I’ll be home before you’re done shooting. Don’t worry.” Taking the umbrella, I headed for the door.
First, I had to get past Bernard. He believed I was shooting tonight and was standing guard outside of Crystal’s trailer. He had no concept of time, so if he didn’t detect my movement, he would stand there all night, thinking I was inside. His sensors detected daylight, so I just had to be back before sunrise.
Slipping out the trailer door, I opened the umbrella and took a deep breath. With a silent wave to Crystal, I tiptoed down the stairs and wiggled past Bernard. He didn’t budge. I easily disappeared into the night.
Walking along the river, I strolled down boulevards dripping with Spanish moss, past stately Victorian mansions, imagining what they looked like through AMPs. I’d overheard a cameraman describing how at night the city was augmented to play up its haunted image. The homes decayed, and tattered curtains fluttered behind broken windows. There were cold spots and things that went bump and the occasional apparition. My footsteps echoing ominously on the cobblestone sidewalk, goose bumps rose on my arm, and I picked up my pace, turning onto River Street.
It was lined with shops and bistros overflowing with customers, and garlic and spice wafted on the breeze. My stomach growled. Uneasy eyes glared at me as I passed, and people crossed the street when they saw me coming, tripping over themselves to get out of my way. I knew what they were thinking. Lazy. Freel
oader. Shielding my face with the umbrella, I shuddered. It was everything I’d been taught to believe.
I lost my appetite.
Dipping out of sight, I wandered along back roads and through abandoned courtyards until I arrived at the steps of the Carnegie Branch Library. I climbed the crumbling stairs and entered the moss-covered brick building, decayed after years of neglect.
Once inside, I peered through the dust floating in the dull light that filtered through the windows. The library was full of Unrankables huddled around archaic computers plugged into ethernet cables. They must be the only ones who use libraries. Only the poorest of the poor would subject themselves to public download speeds.
“Can I help you find anything?”
I jumped and turned to find a guy about my age standing behind me.
“Are you lost?” he asked, his voice betraying a soft southern accent. A series of lightning bolts zigzagged across his bronze skin.
My instinct was to withdraw, but without flinching, I shook my head no.
“Are you sure?” He gestured at the umbrella. “You don’t need that in in here, you know. The satellites won’t find you.”
“What about facial-recognition cameras?” I asked.
“I promise, we’re off the grid.” He laughed. “We still use dial-up. We don’t exactly have the currency for that kind of tech.”
“That’s ridiculous,” I said, lowering the umbrella. “You’d think the government would want to rehabilitate people—I mean—a place like this.”
My face heated, but to my relief, he smiled. “Well, well, who do we have here?” His dark eyes roamed my face. “Ella Karman?”
“You recognize me?” I gasp.
“Of course I do, even under all that glitter. Real Disconnects don’t shine.” He winked.
“Maybe given the right opportunity they would.”
“Maybe.” He extended his hand. “I’m Johnathan.”
“Nice to meet you.” Hating my instinctive repulsion, I forced myself to put my hand in his. “Though I don’t know if you should be talking to me.”
Keystone Page 17